The Rose
by Aenlic
Summary: The rose was a gift from one to another, but there are different takes to it. Specifically, three opinions that of Steven, Ruby and Wallace. [originshipping][tensaishipping][tbc]
1. Steven

**The Rose  
**

He'd kept the rose alive for a long time now, as alive as a rose of three years could be; Steven never believed that he held a green thumb, and he was grateful when his father had rescued him from that plight of keeping a plant. All it took was a book with instructions, hairspray he borrowed from the original owner of the rose, and a few days before the rose could remain with him forever.

The rose had a permanent home in a broken glass bottle by the window, taking the light it needed not, staying in the exact same position for three years now -- truth to be told, Steven would have forgotten about it if Ruby hadn't pointed it out curiously during the tour around his small cottage.

"It's beautiful," Ruby had commented.

Steven had only watched the younger trainer curiously, before he turned his eyes to the rose disbelievingly. It was a rose, a _plant_ -- plants were supposed to wilt and die after a while, _especially_ flowers; and so what if they were beautiful? He had to _kill_ it to make it live, and the irony made him bitter that night as he sat on the couch and contemplated the rose.

It was, _really_, a decoration that didn't fit in with the rest of the house. A standout, a stand alone. Steven had never really liked the dark red hue of its petals, and how it stood so still, so silent, like a predator awaiting its prey. But it was a gift, and Steven _knew_ his manners -- Steven _knew_ Wallace and how insistent and persuasive the other could be at times he wanted to be.

"Besides," the Champion had said, "it'll make your house look brighter."

He'd resisted the urge to point out he didn't really need it, but Steven knew better and Steven knew Wallace was doing it for him, and out of the goodness inside his heart.

Steven picked up the camera -- Ruby's camera, which he suspected the other had left purposely behind, but had no evidence to prove -- lifted it to his eyes and snapped a picture of the rose, capturing the scenery outside the window in the image he had seen in the lenses. He placed it gently down and stood up, walking towards the broken bottle and the rose; Steven gently touched the dried petal of the rose as he frowned.

There was something else Wallace had said about the rose -- something about… "It reminded me of you, this rose," Wallace's voice whispered inside his head, a memory of a conversation long ago, "it was the only red one in a field of yellow."

Red amongst yellow.

Steven glanced about the room, the plain white walls, the simple furniture -- red _amongst _white, he thought, trying hard not to be too amused with his own thoughts.

Standing out.

_It reminded me of you_.

Making a turn, he left the rose behind; walking into another room, Steven wondered if the rose had not only stood out in the fields, but also deep inside… Wallace's heart.

_tbc._  
**  
Notes:** I'd really appreciate feedback on this piece if you're reading this not right now, since it's my first try on taking Wallace's character _seriously_ and I'm quite worried about the relationship potrayed between Wallace and Steven here. In any case, thank you for reading -- and please look forward to the next part of this (hopefully) three-chaptered story.

**Prompt:** A dried rose with bottle for a vase - he photographs it, and tries to find the link to his past.


	2. Ruby

**The Rose**

Steven has a rose in his house.

I'm not sure if the funny part of the sentence above is the fact that Steven _has_ a rose in his house, or the fact that it had been a gift from Wallace. It's a beautiful rose, quite unliked any I've seen before, and it was dried in a way most flowers were to keep them 'alive', as _alive_ as a dead rose could be on the outside. Steven keeps his inside the bottom of a broken glass bottle, his make-shift vase.

Once, I asked him if he ever had the intention of getting another vase -- a _proper and prettier_ vase, but he had barely glanced up at me from the book that held his attention(another, I thought mournfully, gift from Wallace), barely even acknowledged my question before the once Champion shook his head and declined. Opening his mouth, he had spoken simply: _I like it this way._

I was surprised, and I still am -- Steven had always occured to me to be the kind of person who didn't care about outward appearances; when I remarked that the rose was beautiful, he had not replied. He still hasn't. _What_ -- a question I often wonder -- _what is it about the rose that captures him so?_

Was it because it had been a gift from Wallace? The thought seems the most plausible theory of all, but, even so...

I wish that Steven would look and smile for me... the way he smiles for the rose.

_tbc._

**Notes:** This is probably the shortest 'chapter', so to speak, in this three-part story.

**Prompt:** A dried rose with bottle for a vase - he photographs it, and tries to find the link to his past.


End file.
